


Crescendo

by mdr_24601



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Annie Cresta-centric, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Musician Annie Cresta, Piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdr_24601/pseuds/mdr_24601
Summary: “You do understand that learning piano is a complicated process, right?” Annie asked him. “It’ll take a long time, especially if you’ve never tried before.”Finnick shrugged, relaxed. “I’ve got plenty of time.”Or: Annie Cresta teaches piano lessons and Finnick Odair is her student. They both get more than expected out of this arrangement.
Relationships: Annie Cresta & Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Crescendo

Annie’s favorite place to play a gig was certainly not the dingy little bar with a small group of regulars and an even smaller group of piano enthusiasts, but it also wasn’t the worst place she’d ever played. She much preferred playing somewhere nicer, a little more classic, but she took any gig she could get. She had to, if she had any hope of making any money at all. 

Really, though, the bar had a nice atmosphere. Loud, but not distractedly so. Lively. 

So, all things considered, it could be worse. 

“Nice music tonight, Annie.” The bartender, a man about her age named Adrian, slid her a drink from across the bar as she sat down. 

“Thanks,” she replied with a small smile. “Think anyone was actually listening?”

“Oh, sure. Hard not to, with that kind of skill.”

Annie glanced down at her drink and laughed a little. “Well, I appreciate the support. Sorry I can’t stay too late tonight, I have lessons tomorrow morning.”

Somebody else sat down beside her, catching both her and Adrian’s attention. He turned to her, and his eyes widened for a second, before he said, “Hey, you’re the pianist!” 

“Oh,” she said, equally surprised. “Yeah, I am. You like the show?”

“Sounded great, from what I can tell.” He received his drink and took a sip, shrugging. “But I’m not very well versed in the technicalities of piano, so I doubt my opinion will matter much to you.”

“Of course it matters,” Annie countered. “You’re the ones listening, so I care about what you think.”

He smiled, eyes shining, then stuck out his hand. “I’m Finnick.”

“Annie.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Annie,” Finnick said, standing up. There was something fluid and relaxed about the way he moved, and she found herself entranced. “Unfortunately, I might have to cut this conversation short, because my friends are calling me, and they get annoying when they’re impatient.”

“Sure,” she replied, nodding. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Finnick gave her an easy smile and wave before slipping off into the crowd. 

“Well, at least somebody appreciates your talent,” Adrian said, making her jump a little in surprise. “He seems nice.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What, you’re not interested?”

She shrugged, eyes fixing down at the drink in her hand. “I don’t even know him. He said he liked the show, we introduced ourselves, that’s it.”

Adrian grinned. “If you say so.”

Annie rolled her eyes, giving him an incredulous look. “Since when are you the expert on my love life?”

“You don’t _have_ a love life, that’s kind of the problem. You’re too caught up in your work to actually see anyone.”

“Whether that’s true or not,” she said, huffing defensively, “I don’t see how that’s really any of your business.”

“Well, I am a bartender,” he replied, using a towel to dry glasses as he talked. “So I talk with sad people on the daily. I could be a therapist at this point.”

Something uncomfortable stirred in her at the way he said _sad_. “I’m not sad.”

“But you’re not really happy, are you?”

Annie sighed and slung her bag over her shoulder. She quickly swallowed the rest of her drink, letting the cool liquid slide down her throat, as if it would do anything to wake her up a little. Late nights were not her thing, especially late nights in the company of other people. “Goodnight, Adrian.”

He smiled, and she felt her lips twitch in response. “See you next week, Annie.”

* * *

Annie taught piano lessons at a little music store every weekday. The job wasn’t horrible, far from it, but it was hardly as stimulating as she would’ve liked. Still, it allowed her to play music and make money at the same time, so it fit her needs well enough. 

The little store bell jangled as somebody walked in, but she didn’t look up from her music. As far as she was aware, her next lesson wasn’t for another hour, so she could settle in comfortably and play until then. Annie’s eyes focused on the music in front of her as her fingers moved deftly across the keys. She was having trouble with the same spot, over and over. She ran a frustrated hand through her dark hair. 

“Hey.”

Annie’s eyes snapped up to the person standing in front of her. “Oh, hi. Finnick, right?”

Finnick smiled and sat down in one of the chairs. “And you’re Annie.”

“Are you here to buy something? Because I can direct you to somebody who can help you find whatever you need,” she said. Finnick only looked at her and let her talk, a small smile playing on his lips. “What do you need, anyway?”

“Oh, I’m here for lessons,” he said. “Although I guess I look a little older than your regular students.”

“Lessons,” she echoed back. “From me?”

“Yes, from you. Unless you’d rather I go somewhere else?”

Based on the way he looked at her and how he made no move to get up, Annie assumed he didn’t want to go somewhere else. “No. No, stay here. I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone.”

She became acutely aware of her messy space, with sheets of music scattered around the piano and table. As if sensing her apprehension, Finnick helped her organize the music into neat little piles. For a moment, their hands brushed, and Annie inhaled sharply. “There you go,” Finnick announced when they were done. “So, where do we start?”

“You do understand that learning piano is a complicated process, right?” Annie asked him. “It’ll take a long time, especially if you’ve never tried before.”

Finnick shrugged, relaxed. “I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Okay,” she said. “Do you know how to read music?”

“Not at all."

“Then we’ll start there. Learning music is like learning a new language. Eventually, with practice, you’ll read it like you’d read a book.”

For the next half hour, Annie instructed Finnick on the basics of sight reading. It would take a long time before he would be proficient at it, in the same way that it took time and practice to become fluent in a new language. Finnick, to her surprise, was patient, letting her talk and explain as much as she wanted. 

“You’re a good teacher,” he said once she had paused. At her disbelieving look, he said, “I’m serious. I’ve learned more from you than I did in, like, five years of music class as a kid.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” Annie said, trying not to look too flustered. “It’s not that hard, really, once you get into it.”

“You made it look easy last night,” he said. He was, of course, referring to the previous night at the bar when he’d seen her play. 

“Thanks. So, why’d you come in for lessons here?” By _here_ she meant _with me,_ and although she didn’t say it out loud, she was quite certain Finnick understood what she was asking. 

“I overheard you at the bar,” Finnick replied casually. “So I did some research, and here we are.”

“Okay,” Annie said, slowly. Surprisingly comfortable with someone she’d just met, she pressed on. “But why?”

“Would you believe me if I told you it was so I could see you again?”

She felt her face heat up. “You could have just asked for my number or something. There’s no reason to learn a whole instrument just to see me.”

“Well,” Finnick said softly. “That’s not really your call to make, is it?”

Annie’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she and Finnick sat in silence. If he wanted to learn piano, that was just fine with her, no matter the strange reason. 

“I guess this means that I need your number now, though,” he said after a moment. “You know, to talk about lessons and everything.”

“Oh,” Annie said, still flustered. “Sure.” She took out a notepad and scrawled her number on it, before ripping off the piece of paper and handing it to Finnick. “You can schedule weekly lessons, if you want. I’ll have to look at my schedule to see what times will work best for the both of us, so it might take a little while to get scheduled.”

“No problem,” Finnick said. “Just call me and let me know when.”

He gave her one last wave before walking out the door, the bell sounding as he left. 

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Finnick kept coming back to lessons. Annie would be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t that she had no faith in him, because his perseverance had proven quite the opposite. It was just that, from what she’d gathered, Finnick was not the most patient of people in day to day settings. He was restless and fidgety, like he couldn’t sit still, always tapping his foot on the floor or drumming his fingers on the table. Still, he was exceedingly patient with her and her lessons, always listening carefully and applying the skills to the best of his ability. 

There was something refreshing about him, too. Annie felt _more_ when she was with him. Everything was richer, more colorful. She looked forward to their lessons for these exact reasons. 

“Morning, Annie.” Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed Finnick walk up and sit in one of the waiting chairs. Little bits of snow still stuck in his hair, which was windswept by the cold December wind. “Big plans for today?”

She laughed. “If you call teaching children the difference between a whole note and a half note, then yes, big plans.”

“Sounds riveting,” Finnick said, playing along. “I bet those kids appreciate your teachings.”

“Oh, sometimes they do,” she replied. “Sometimes their parents just make them come, though, and they don’t actually want to be here.”

He nodded solemnly in understanding. “That’s unfortunate. Have you ever thought about teaching somewhere where people are passionate about music?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like a university,” Finnick explained. “You could do it, you know. You’re a great teacher.”

Annie laughed softly. “I’m not really licensed to teach college level music. My degree only allows for high school level.”

“A performing arts school, then,” he amended. He caught sight of her wary expression. “I’m serious. We’re in New York, there’s no shortage of them. I’m sure there are spots open. Beats teaching little kids that don’t actually care.”

Well. He certainly wasn’t wrong. The idea of teaching at a specialized school, with people whose passion matched her own was appealing. Finnick had a way with words that made anything he said feel not only possible but empowering. 

“I’ll think about it,” she decided. “For now, you have sight reading to do.”

Finnick grumbled. “Really? Can’t we skip it today? I don’t like sight reading.”

“Nobody likes sight reading, but we still have to practice it,” Annie retorted. “I told you this would take a while, right?”

A smile twitched at his lips. “You did, didn’t you? Okay, fine, a few minutes of sight reading.”

As most lessons with Finnick did, the hour that they spent together went by quickly. It was amazing how quickly time sped by with him, and she was pretty sure Finnick felt it, too. Before she knew it, they were wrapping up the lesson and putting sheet music away. 

“Will I be seeing you next week?” Annie asked as Finnick put his coat on. 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied confidently. 

She wanted to ask why he kept coming back, even after disclosing his reasons for coming in the first place. It couldn’t have been his long-term investment in piano, because he didn’t have one. “Why do you keep coming back?” she asked boldly before she could stop herself. Annie mentally chided herself; the question was abrupt and rude. But Finnick, as usual, took it in stride. 

“Because you care about piano,” he said softly, “and I care about you.”

It felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs. Annie could hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat in her chest, and vaguely, she wondered if it was loud enough for Finnick to hear. It must have been. She wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans. 

And because this was Finnick and he made her do uncharacteristically bold things, she asked, “Do you want to get a coffee sometime?”

If she felt euphoric when Finnick said he cared about her, it was nothing compared to how she felt when he smiled at her question. “I’d love to. How does Saturday morning sound?”

“Perfect,” she answered honestly, because it was. She had no lessons on the weekends, and Finnick knew that. 

“I know a place you’ll like,” he said. “I’ll text you the details when I get home.”

Annie could only nod as he smiled again. “See you Saturday,” he said, before walking out the door. 

“See you Saturday,” Annie echoed back, even though he was too far away to hear her. 

* * *

The rest of the week seemed to stretch on forever as Annie waited for Saturday to come. Her coffee date with Finnick was approaching, and she found herself feeling wildly unprepared. It had been a long time since she had even met up with someone, much less on a date. Honestly, she was more than a little rusty. 

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, with a light snow falling. Annie wrapped herself in a comfortable sweater and knee-high boots. She pulled her coat closer to her body in an effort to trap the heat in. As she arrived at the coffee shop Finnick had selected, she found him already sitting at a table. 

“Hey,” she said, sitting down. Her fingers were still stiff from the cold, and she had difficulty taking her coat off and draping it across the back of her chair. 

“Hey,” Finnick replied with a smile. “How was your morning?”

“It was good. Cold.”

He laughed a little at that, a sound that was already beginning to calm her nerves. “Sounds like you need some coffee, then.”

They placed an order and within minutes, Annie had her chilled hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. She inhaled the smell deeply and sighed. “I love the smell of coffee.”

“Me, too,” he agreed. “Not so much the taste, though. Too bitter.” He emptied sugar packets into his coffee and took a sip, content. “The sugar makes it better.”

Annie grinned. “I’d imagine so.”

They sat in comfortable silence before Finnick spoke up again. “It’s weird seeing each other outside of piano lessons.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly. “But it’s good.”

“Definitely.” He sipped his coffee again. “So, besides piano, what else do you like to do?”

Annie shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not very interesting.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, it’s true,” she said. “Kids never played with me when I was in school because they said I was too boring.”

Boldly, Finnick declared, “Well, those kids are stupid.”

There was something so unabashed about the way he said it, that Annie couldn’t help but laugh. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m an elementary school gym teacher,” Finnick replied. Annie’s eyes widened. 

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Why, don’t believe me?”

“No, it’s not that,” she assured him. “You just don’t seem like the teacher type.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re a teacher.”

“Exactly!”

Finnick grinned, then shrugged. “Well, my class is fun. Besides, I know how to act around elementary school kids. Just let them tackle each other and you’re fine.”

“How do you come to lessons in the mornings, then?” Annie asked, puzzled. “Don’t you have school?”

“I don’t teach on Wednesday mornings,” he explained. “So I see you then.”

She nodded, contemplative. “That works out nicely.”

His smile was soft but still remarkable, and something warmed bloomed in her chest at the sight of it. “Yeah, it does.”

They drank their coffee and talked, and Annie was struck by how easy it was to converse with Finnick. No matter how many times she struggled to find something to say, he kept the conversation going. Whenever she felt awkward, he sent her an encouraging smile until the tension melted from her shoulders. Eventually, it was no longer necessary for him to do these things, because she could comfortably keep the conversation going with little effort at all. 

“We should do this again sometime,” Finnick said as they were packing up to leave. “If you want, that is.”

“I’d like that,” Annie replied, buttoning her coat. “Want to walk out with me?”

He smiled and they walked out into the brisk winter air together. At some point, Annie found her hand clasped in Finnick’s, and she was relieved to find that it didn’t feel cold at all. 

* * *

A month into their piano lessons, Annie started looking for job applications. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t like her current job, but it just didn’t feel like enough. Enough of a challenge, enough passion. She could do more. She could be more. 

The inspiration behind her change of heart came from a multitude of sources, but the most prominent one had to be Finnick. Since their first conversation about her job, he’d been supportive and encouraging every step of the way. 

Annie sorted through different applications on her desk, sighing heavily. While it was true that New York had a plethora of performing arts schools that she could teach at, positions were difficult to come by in such a competitive area. How could she, mediocre at piano and subpar at teaching, ever possibly hope to earn a position teaching children far more talented than herself?

Much to her relief, her self-deprecating thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door. Finnick stood on the other side with two cups of coffee in his hands. “Movie night?” he asked. 

She had given Finnick her address a week prior, and he’d been over to her apartment a few times since then. “Yes, please,” she said, welcoming inside. “I need something to distract me from these applications.”

Finnick walked in and glanced at the multiple applications littering her desk. “What’s wrong?”

Of course, he knew something was wrong, because Finnick was annoyingly perceptive like that. Annie sat down on the couch and sighed. “I just...I don’t know if this is going to work out.”

“You don’t think you’ll get a job?” he asked, and she nodded. “You know what I think? I think you’re more talented than you give yourself credit for. I mean, you taught me piano. You deserve an award for that.”

“You’re not that bad,” she countered. “You just had to stick with it. You’re a lot better now than you were a month ago.”

“Yeah, because of you.” Finnick joined her on the couch and gently took her hands. “You’re an amazing pianist and an amazing teacher. Any one of those schools would be lucky to have you. But you need to apply first.”

She nodded. “You’re right. May as well try.”

“There you go,” he grinned. “Okay, movie or applications?”

The thought of working on the applications any more tonight nearly gave Annie a headache, so she leaned her head on his shoulder and said, “Movie.”

* * *

“Place your fingers like this,” Annie said as she demonstrated. “Just speed it up a little.”

Finnick repeated her movements successfully. When he was done, he leaned back, satisfied with his work. “Like that?”

“That was really good,” Annie said. “I think that’s all for today.”

He nodded and stood up from the bench. “So, I was thinking about something we could do to take your mind off everything.”

By _everything,_ he meant the stream of rejections she had gotten from the schools she’d applied to. It wasn’t surprising, not really, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Finnick kept assuring her that she’d get there eventually, but her hope was starting to dwindle. “What’s that?” she asked. 

“We could go ice skating,” Finnick suggested. “There’s this great outdoor rink that I think you’ll love.”

“Ice skating?” Annie asked skeptically. “I’m not very good.”

“Neither am I, that’s the fun part.”

An image of Finnick sliding around on the ice entered her mind and she laughed out loud. “Okay,” she agreed after a moment. “We may as well.”

The rink, as it turned out, was really quite beautiful. It was only somewhat crowded in the morning, with a few couples and figure skaters doing elaborate twirls on the ice. Annie laced up her skates, clutched Finnick’s hand, and stepped onto the ice. 

Her stomach dropped as she slid, and her breath exited her mouth in a visible puff of air. “Wow,” Annie said, gripping onto the railing. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”

“I never did it as a kid,” Finnick said, holding her hand but not the railing. “It was too warm where I grew up.”

“Same with me,” Annie agreed. “How are you not freaking out right now?”

He shrugged, letting go of her hand and gliding across the ice. His movements were clumsy and clearly unpracticed, but he looked like he was having fun. “You have to not be afraid to fail.” 

Finnick stuck his arms out and did a little spin, only managing to catch himself before he fell. His excitement was infectious, and Annie felt herself laughing. 

Hesitantly, she let go of the railing, urging her feet forward. There was a distinct lack of control that made worry churn in her stomach. These skates could slide anywhere, unprompted, and she would be able to do nothing about it. In front of her, she could see Finnick open his arms in invitation. Determined, Annie inched her way forward. A burst of nervous laughter escaped her mouth as she fell into his arms. 

“You did it,” Finnick whispered into her hair. “I’m proud of you.”

Annie grinned and stepped back a little. Finnick’s arms were still wrapped around her, and she could feel his breath on her skin. She was suddenly struck by the intimacy of the situation, and every fiber of her being told her to step back. 

She didn’t. 

When Finnick inched forward again, his lips brushing hers in a silent ask for permission, Annie kissed him back. 

They pulled apart some time later, though she was unsure how long it had been. She looked at him for a moment, breathless, saying nothing. There was not much to say, really. The actions and feelings spoke for themselves. 

Finnick grinned at her, took her hand, and together they skated around the rink. The cool wind blew at her face and Annie could feel her cheeks and nose freezing, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. There was something so freeing about skating with Finnick, being swept away with the wind and the snow, gliding across the ice like they are the only two people to exist. Nothing else mattered. 

To put it simply, it was gratifying. 

And when Finnick dropped her off at her house, cheeks and nose flushed pink from the cold, he pressed his lips to hers again. “See you later, Annie,” he said with quiet confidence. 

“See you,” she replied back before closing the door and sinking to the floor with the sheer weight of it all. 

A wave of exhaustion struck her suddenly, making her eyelids flutter. Maybe it was the ice skating, or the intensity of emotion, or the being around people for so long. Whatever it was, she was tired. 

Not in a bad way, though. Annie was tired as if she’d just gone for a run; undoubtedly exerted, but satisfied with what she’d done. 

Without dwelling on her thoughts any longer, she climbed into bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and fell asleep. 

* * *

Only a few days later, a letter came in the mail, adding to her stroke of good luck. 

The letter itself wasn’t the lucky part. After sending out her applications, Annie was met with many letters in response. They all bore the same bad news: _we regret to inform you that we have chosen another candidate for this job._ But this letter, the one Annie had to put down and read again, just to make sure, said nothing of the sort. 

It wasn’t an immediate guarantee. They wanted her to come in for an interview and to see her play. But that was far more than what the other schools responded with, so Annie considered it a win. 

The first thing she did, after taking a few deep breaths and reading the letter again, was call Finnick. It felt right that he be the first to hear the news. It was his idea, after all, to apply to teach at different schools. 

He picked up quickly. “Hey, Annie.”

“Hey, Finn,” she said, barely keeping the excitement out of her voice. “I got a letter today.”

She could already imagine the way his eyes would widen with realization at those words. “Oh?”

“They want me to come in for an interview.”

“Annie, that’s great!” Finnick sounded just as excited as she felt. Annie felt laughter bubble in her chest. “Want me to come over and we can celebrate? I’m free today.”

With anyone else, she would have felt awkward at inviting them over, but it had long since been established that Finnick was not like anyone else. “Sure. We can make hot chocolate.”

“I look forward to it. Be there in a few minutes.”

True to his word, Finnick arrived at her door in under ten minutes. He pulled her into a hug and spun her around in her kitchen. Her feet dangled off the floor, and she let out a surprised squeak. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, after putting her down. “This is a big deal.”

“I don’t even have the job yet,” she replied, laughing with amusement. 

“You will.” His voice was so certain that it nearly stopped the doubt creeping into her mind. “Once they meet you, they won’t be able to reject you, trust me.”

“How can you be so sure?"

“Well, for one, I know you,” he said. “And I know how amazing you are. If they turn you away, they don’t deserve you in the first place.”

Annie laughed brightly, because that was such a Finnick thing to say. She leaned forward and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him gently. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, and meant it. 

Finnick smiled and took her hand. “I’m so glad to be here.”

They spent the day at Annie’s apartment, talking and drinking hot chocolate and watching movies. The stress of the job applications had been lifted from her shoulders, at least temporarily, now that she had a future in mind. That, combined with being with Finnick, made for a very relaxing day. 

“Do you have to go to lessons tomorrow?” Finnick asked her as she began to get ready for bed that night. 

“I don’t have that job yet,” she reminded him. “I still have to make money somehow.”

He laughed a little but let her get ready for bed in comfortable silence. “Wait, Annie?”

“Hm?”

“Can we stay here for just a few more minutes?”

Annie sighed, and joined him on the couch again. “A few more minutes,” she found herself agreeing. She curled up at his side and he wrapped an arm around her. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

Slowly and comfortably, like settling into a giant pillow, Annie was lulled to sleep by the gentle sound of Finnick’s breathing.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's some self indulgent musician!Annie content. I have no idea if anybody else likes this of if it's just me, but I figured I'd post it anyway. Also, to keep my works at an even 30 for this year, this will probably be my last work of the year. Thanks for all of your support this year, it means a lot!
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this one! <3


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